Chapter 286: The Reborn

Five minutes before the Blood Moon Descent.

Su Ming felt as if someone had just yanked him out of the deep sea, and he sprang up from the bed.

His lungs lacked air, his chest heaved violently. Instinctively, his hand pressed hard against his abdomen—where there should have been a blood hole pierced by a rusty reinforced steel bar, with intestines and organ fragments spilling everywhere, the excruciating pain of being hollowed out still lingered in his nerves, making his whole body spasm uncontrollably.

No blood.

No reinforced steel bar.

Only dry, soft pure-cotton pajamas, and warm, firm skin under his palm.

"I'm alive......"

His voice was hoarse as if he had swallowed a mouthful of gravel.

Su Ming grabbed the phone beside the pillow, and the white light from the screen made his pupils contract sharply.

17:55.

Only five minutes remained before the "Blood Moon" that would turn the human world into purgatory descended.

The "Time Marrow Worm" inside him had completely ceased all movement, now fallen into a death-like dormancy.

The reason he could be reborn to a time before anything had begun was precisely because of this particular weirdness.

However, now that the "Time Marrow Worm" has sunk into slumber, he has no second chance.

This time, he must survive.

To avoid being dragged into the struggle among the Federal Weird Investigation Bureau, the Weird Controllers Alliance, the Overseas Weird Controllers, and other forces, and to survive the Blood Moon Crisis.

"Five minutes."

Su Ming had not even a second of relief or foolishness; he jumped barefoot from the bed, moving as fast as a cat whose tail had been stepped on, and rushed to the miscellaneous cabinet in the corner of the living room.

The hardware toolbox was flung open, screwdrivers and wrenches clattering everywhere. He didn't even glance at them, only grabbing the roll of black industrial insulating tape and a large unopened piece of opaque light-blocking cloth.

He had bought it just last week to refit his home theater, never expecting it to become a life-saving coffin board.

"Hurry up, faster."

His hands kept moving, but his mind was even faster.

Windows.

Those were the biggest loopholes.

Outside, the sky was still the normal dusky yellow, the sunset hanging between the buildings, looking no different from usual.

Downstairs, the street flowed with traffic, the vendor selling roasted sweet potatoes still hawking, and office workers weary from work were plunging into the subway station.

No one knew that in a few minutes, that sun would burst open like a blood‑filled eyeball, turn into the Blood Moon, and the red light it shed would completely sever the genetic chains of any organism exposed to it.

As long as it touches even a bit of light.

Even just a tiny bit.

Or gazing at the Blood Moon from inside the building for more than five seconds.

The skin would melt like wax, bones would proliferate and pierce the flesh, turning into a monster that only knows how to eat and kill.

"Rip—"

The sound of the tape tearing was especially harsh in the quiet room.

Su Ming nailed the light‑blocking cloth firmly to the window frame, leaving no gap. Then came the tape—one layer, two, three. He frantically sealed every crack in the window, his fingertips turning white from the force as his nail beds blanched.

It must be absolute darkness.

Bedroom done.

Rush to the living room.

Plus the floor‑to‑ceiling window on the balcony.

Time passed amid his heavy breathing.

17:58.

The balcony is too big; the light‑blocking cloth isn't enough.

Su Ming's hands, thick with calluses from long‑term knife grip, showed no tremor as he yanked the thick blanket from the sofa and even dragged the bedsheet over.

Without nails, he used the table to brace and the cabinet to weigh down.

The heavy wooden wardrobe, shoved forward by his adrenaline‑fueled brute force, slammed onto the balcony door with a loud "clang," firmly bracing the fragile glass door.

Having done all that, Su Ming leaned against the door panel and slid down the frame to sit on the floor.

Darkness.

Pitch‑black darkness where you can't see your own fingers.

In this sealed space, only his own ragged breathing and the "thump‑thump" of his heart striking his chest could be heard.

He fumbled to turn on his phone, set the brightness to minimum, and cupped his hand around that faint glimmer of light.

17:59:50.

Ten seconds left.

Su Ming turned off the phone screen.

In the darkness, his hearing was infinitely amplified.

"Tick."

The wall‑mounted clock ticked past one second.

Outside, the world was still noisy: car horns, the arguing of the couple next door, the footsteps of children running upstairs and downstairs.

Even though he couldn't see, Su Ming could sketch those scenes in his mind.

Three.

Two.

One.

The world seemed as if the mute button had been pressed.

That noise vanished in an instant.

Immediately after, there was a sound never heard before, like a low-frequency hum made by some huge creature above the clouds.

"Hum—"

The car alarm downstairs began to wail wildly.

"Ah!!"

The first scream rang out.

It wasn't the scream of a person startled in fear, but a hoarse roar that could only be produced when the vocal cords were forcibly torn by some external force and the throat filled with blood froth.

"What is this?! My hand! What happened to my hand?!"

"Don't come over! That's Uncle Wang! That's...... ah!!"

"Help! I won't look! I won't look! My eyes! My eyes!"

Despite the thick walls and sealed windows, the outside sound remained crystal clear, making one's scalp tingle.

"Crack, crack."

That was the sound of bones frantically growing and tearing through the skin.

"Pfft."

That was the sound of claws piercing soft flesh, or some mouthpart crushing a skull.

Su Ming sat in the darkness, gripping tightly the Watermelon Knife he had prepared long ago. The handle was icy cool, its texture against his palm slightly calming his racing heartbeat.

It had begun.

Hell on earth.

He didn't go to the window; he knew that if he lifted a corner of the curtain, he would see that scarlet Blood Moon occupying half the sky, and see those usually well-dressed people twisted into monsters under the red light.

"Huuu..."

Su Ming exhaled the stale air from his lungs.

He felt his way to the corner of the living room, where lay the items he had just bought from the supermarket yesterday.

Two cases of large bottled mineral water.

A whole box of compressed biscuits.

Plus a large bag of vacuum-packed beef jerky and chocolate.

His hand moved over these supplies bit by bit, the feel real and rough.

Not bad luck.

In the days before his rebirth, he had happened to stock up on supplies because of that so-called flu rumor. Though not much, if he rationed it for himself alone, it would last a month.

Compared to those poor souls outside, bumping around like headless flies and ending up as monster fodder, he was practically living in paradise.

"Gurgle."

His stomach growled inopportunely.

Hunger surged like a tide.

Next, in this apartment building, people would first face a major reduction in numbers due to scarcity of supplies, at which point the evil in human nature would be revealed.

In the darkness, Su Ming's gaze gradually turned cold and grim, the kind of look only someone who had rolled through mountains of corpses and seas of blood could have, even in a pitch-black room exuding a chill.

He thought of a person.

Aunt Li.

She lived right across the door, usually kind‑eyed and smiling at everyone.

In his previous life, on the third day after the Blood Moon Descent.

Su Ming was also hiding in his room just like now.

Aunt Li came knocking, wailing so pitifully that anyone who heard felt heartbroken and anyone who saw teared up, saying her little grandson was about to starve to death and needed just a bite of food, even a sip of water.

Su Ming's heart softened.

He thought, as a man in his prime, giving a bit of food to an elder and child was nothing.

So what happened?

Aunt Li was insatiable, morally blackmailing him for more food, far beyond what 'help' entailed.

After he refused and drove her away, Aunt Li told the other neighbors that his household had ample supplies.

The next day, someone knocked on his door; seeing it was a child begging for food, his heart softened and he opened the door.

Little did he expect.

Outside the door, besides the child, the peephole's blind spot also held a few thugs from downstairs and several other neighbors.

Aunt Li was also there, telling those people: "It's him! He's stockpiled a ton of food! I've seen it myself!"

That day, a mob rushed into Su Ming's home, pinned him to the ground and broke three of his ribs, knocking out two of his teeth.

They drained his water, took his food, and before leaving Aunt Li even spat at him, cursing: "You little brat, hoarding all that food without fear of choking."

He lay on the floor for two days.

To survive, he ate a rat.

Raw.

That fishy, slimy taste—even now, recalling it makes his stomach churn.

"Aunt Li......"

Su Ming whispered that name in the darkness, the corner of his mouth twisting into an utterly cruel arc.

He gripped the Watermelon Knife tighter in his hand.

Human nature is ugly.

This time.

No one should even think of taking a single grain of rice from me.

Time became blurred in the darkness.

Su Ming didn't know how long had passed; maybe three hours, maybe five.

The wailing outside grew sparse.

It wasn't that the monsters left; it was that the living had almost all died.

What remained either hid in shells like his, or had already become wandering figures on the streets.

The chewing sound became clear.

"Munch, munch."

It sounded like someone was eating a juicy stalk of sugarcane.

Su Ming knew they were eating bones.

He could even hear the heavy footsteps coming from the hallway—slow, dragging—that was the early-stage mutant monsters, not yet fully adapted to their new bodies, on patrol.

"Don't rush."

Su Ming tore open a chocolate wrapper and sipped it bit by bit, letting that high-calorie sweetness melt on his tongue.

"The good show has only just begun."

Three days.

For three whole days, Su Ming was like a stone blended into the darkness; aside from eating, drinking, relieving himself, he made hardly any sound.

During these three days, this old apartment building was like a giant pressure cooker.

Someone tried to climb out a window to steal from a neighbor, only to fall and splatter into meat paste.

Someone attempted to go outside the apartment building to scavenge for supplies, but was either mutated by the Blood Moon's light or killed by the mutant monsters outside.

The remaining people dared not leave; having learned from prior examples, they could only shrink back inside the apartment.

Su Ming had been waiting.

He was waiting for the moment that was sure to come.

"Thud, thud, thud."

It was extremely abrupt; a knocking sounded from outside the door.

Unlike the dull thud of monsters battering the door, this was rhythmic, with a probing quality.

It was a human hand.

Su Ming's eyes, which had been half-closed, snapped open.

He rose soundlessly in the darkness; the Watermelon Knife in his hand had not rusted from these three days of waiting—on the contrary, he had sharpened it even more.

It's here.

"Xiao Su? Are you home?"

A familiar voice.

It carried that distinctive, elderly tremble, sounding weak and pitiful.

"I'm Li Grandma from next door……."

"Are you all right? Grandma hasn't heard any movement from you in days; I was worried something happened to you……."

The person outside paused, as if pressing an ear to the door to listen for any sound inside.

Su Ming didn't speak.

Although he couldn't see, he knew.

That old woman was surely putting on an act now; on her wrinkled face, one could probably see the gleam of calculation.

"Xiao Su, if you're home, just answer."

The voice outside took on a sobbing tone, the despair just right.

"Grandma doesn't want to trouble you…… but…… but my little grandson is only five……."

"He hasn't eaten in three days; he's been crying for food, his voice hoarse from wailing."

"Grandma begs you, please do me a favor and give something to eat—even a biscuit or half a bottle of water would do……."

"Bang bang bang!"

This time it was the sound of a head hitting the door, as if someone were truly kowtowing.

"The child is innocent! Xiao Su! You have the kindest heart……."

Exactly the same.

The lines were identical to those in my previous life, down to the punctuation.